(A customer orders a large coffee, and requests cream and sugar in it, as well as a few cream cups on the side. I go to clarify:)

Me: “So, you wanted cream and sugar inside the coffee, as well as a couple on the side, right?”

Customer: *uppity* “Yeah, I wanted three or four, as well, as the eight inside, as I ordered it.”

Me: “All right, just trying to clarify.”

(I hand her my screen to show her, which has the coffee and two cups on the side.)

Customer: *more demanding* “Um, I said three or four!”

(I return with two more cups.)

Customer: *huffs* “I’m just going to point out that you’d seem less hostile if you smiled more!”

(I did smile, and as she was leaving, I wondered how some people could be so rude over a couple of cups of cream.)

(I work in billing for a car rental company and get a lot of outrageous customers. A customer is supposed to return the rental car on a specific date, and conveniently it is stolen on the same day. They are complaining that they were charged a fee for the car being stolen.)

Customer: “I don’t want to pay this fee, and I want you to refund it.”

Me: “I can’t do that, because while the car is in your possession, it is your responsibility to make sure nothing happens to it, and since it was stolen, you need to pay the fee.”

(Keep in mind this customer is in their mid-fifties.)

Customer: “This is outrageous! Wait until I tell my mom!”

Me: *long pause* “Did you just say you’re going to tell your mom?”

Customer: *ignores me and proceeds to complain for a few more minutes, then gives up and hangs up*

(I work at an ice cream shop in a tourist town that’s busy even during the colder months. As such, we get a lot of people in, some not so bright. We have an extensive menu, and a lot of options, so as far as sundaes go there is a minimum of about 180 possible combinations, not including if a customer asks for multiple toppings. One day, I am training a new coworker, and I come across this one customer…)

Customer: “Can I get a sundae?”

Me: “Okay, would you like that small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “Um, small, I guess.”

Me: “And what toppings would you like on that, or did you just want a plain cup of vanilla ice cream?”

Customer: “I said a sundae.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I need to know what toppings you would like. We have a list of flavors on the menu right next to you.”

Customer: “You know, with the hot fudge and peanuts and whipped cream… You know what? Never mind! I’ll just get a medium cone of vanilla!”

(The customer stormed off and let his friend finish the rest of the order and pay. I’m still not sure how I was supposed to know all of that from just the word “sundae,” but I’m sure with enough experience I’ll learn how to read minds!)

(I am working in a different department than my usual one. It is a busy day, we have stock to put away, and one of the managers wants a few of us to move a few things around within the department. We are all busy working. A customer is shopping with his wife.)

Customer: *sighs, then shouts* “IS ANYONE GOING TO HELP ME?!”

Coworker: “Hi there. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I need help finding a shirt to match these pants.”

(All of us stop what we are doing, and for about ten minutes, we help the other coworker find different options to pair with the pants. We probably find about ten different shirts. My coworker takes them up to the customer. The customer stands there going through everything.)

Customer: “No, no, no. Ugh, I guess I could try this one… No, no, no.”

(He picks all of the ones he wants to try and heads to the fitting room. I set him up in there with everything nicely folded on the bench. My manager then comes by and explains to us what he wants us to move and how he wanted us to set it all up. Meanwhile, the customer comes out of the fitting room with one of the shirts and the pants. All of my coworkers walk away and so does the manager. He proceeds to bring the items to the register.)

Me: “Hi there. How did everything go? I see you found something to pair with those pants. Are you ready to go or did you want to look around some more?”

Customer: *in a really rude voice* “I’m ready to go.”

Me: “Perfect.” *rings up all of the items* “It comes to $155; how would you like to pay?”

(The customer slides the chip into the machine while I fold and bag his clothes for him.)

Customer: “You know, I’m absolutely disgusted with the service here… I needed help and had to shout for it, and then you all were just standing around talking while I was trying things on.”

Me: “I’m sorry that you feel that way, sir.”

Customer: “It’s just disgusting. I expect better service from [Store]. You’re getting paid to be here; you should be working, not talking.”

Me: *losing my patience a bit* “Sir, we are just doing our job. There is a lot more to our job description aside from customer service, but all of us spent ten minutes looking for shirts for you to match those pants. We did our best.”

Customer: “I’m so disgusted. If your manager was here, I would love to tell him how you were all just standing around talking.”

Me: “Well, actually, our manager was standing there with us; again, we were discussing what needed to be moved around in the department, which is also in our job description, but if you would like me to call the manager down here, I can get him to explain it to you, as well.”

Customer: “No.”

(The customer gave me a dirty look, ripped the bag from my hand, and walked out of the store. I went into the fitting room to find every single shirt crumpled up in a ball on the floor.)

(This occurs at around 11:30 pm, when it’s just two other people and me working. I’m running the drive-thru register, with the shift leader also wearing a headset. The restaurant has just switched from one set of promotions to another set a few days ago.)

Me: “Welcome to [Fast Food Place]! What can I get started for you?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like two [old promotion item]s and a large [drink].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but [old promotion item] is no longer being offered; can I interest you in some [new offer items]?”

(I then hear the sound of an engine, and then silence…)

Shift Manager: “Did he really just back out of the drive-thru?”

Me: “Yes, and now we have a ‘car’ waiting on the timer.”